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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  mfcroreproductions  historiques 


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Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes 


iques  et  bibliographiques 


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D 
D 
D 
D 
D 
D 
D 
D 
D 

D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
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Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommagde 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
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pas  6t6  film^es. 

Additional  comments:/ 
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une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  m^thode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquds  ci-dessous. 


D 
D 
D 

n 


n 


Coloured  pages/ 
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Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul6es 

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I      I    Quality  of  print  varies/ 


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This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu6  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


12X 


16X 


20X 


28X 


32X 


ails 

du 

idifier 

une 

nage 


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beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
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d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
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originaux  sont  fllm6s  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniftre  page  qui  comports  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  das  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN  ". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film6s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff6rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  saul  clich6,  il  est  filmd  d  partir 
de  Tangle  sup^rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'imagas  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


rata 

3 


lelure, 


3 


32X 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

JOHN  KEATS 


THE   A.POTHECi^KY  POET 


BY 


WILLIAM  OSLER 


BALTIMORE 

THE   FHIKDENWALD  COMPANY 

1896 


, 


Johnt  Hopkinn  Ifoiipital  Ifixlorieal  Club, 
October  ">,  isur,. 


JOHN"  KEATS 


THE  APOTHECARY  POET 


BV 


WILLIAM  OSLER 


BALTIMORE 

THE  FRIEDKNWALD   COMPANY 

1896 


wr,<<iaiiii»»i"'»iii^  ■Tii<i'w,..ii"' 


.07 


fFrom  Tlif  Johnt  l/oiiklns  J/ontilt'tl  IJulletln,  No.  5s,  Jiinunry,  iswi.l 


JOHN  KEATS-TIIE  Al'OTIIECARY  POET. 


We  have  the  very  highest  authority  for  the  statement  that 
"  the  lunatic,  the  lover,  luul  the  poet,  are  of  imagination  all 
compact."  In  a  more  comprehensive  division,  with  a  keener 
discernment,  Plato  recognizes  a  madness  which  is  not  an 
evil,  but  a  divine  gift,  and  the  source  of  the  chief  est  blessings 
granted  to  men.  Of  this  divine  madness  poetry  occupies  one 
of  the  fourfold  partitions.  Here  is  his  definition  :  "  The  third 
kind  is  the  madness  of  those  who  are  possessed  by  the  Muses ; 
which,  taking  hold  of  a  delicate  and  virgin  soul,  and  there 
inspiring  frenzy,  aAvakeus  lyrical  and  all  other  numbers ;  with 
these  adorning  the  myriad  actions  of  ancient  heroes  for  the 
instruction  of  posterity.  But  he  who,  having  no  touch  of  the 
Pluses'  madness  in  his  soul,  comes  to  the  door  and  thinks 
that  he  will  get  into  the  temple  by  the  help  of  art — he,  I  say. 
and  his  poetry  are  not  admitted ;  the  sane  man  disappears  and 
is  nowhere  Avhen  he  enters  into  rivalry  with  the  madman." 

Here,  in  a  few  words,  we  have  expressed  the  very  pith  and 
marrow  of  the  natuie  of  poetry,  and  a  clearer  distinction  than 
is  drawn  by  many  modern  writers  of  the  relation  of  the  art  to 
the  spirit,  of  the  form  to  the  thought.  By  the  help  of  art, 
without  the  Muses'  madness,  no  man  enters  the  temple.  The 
poet  is  a  "  light  and  winged  and  holy  thing,"  whose  impira- 
tijn,  genius,  faculty,  whatever  we  may  choose  to  call  it,  is 
allied  to  madness — he  is  possessed  or  inspired.  Oliver  Wen- 
del)  Holmes  has  expressed  this  very  charmingly  in  more 
modern  terms,  speaking  of  his  own  condition  when  composing 


4 

the  Chamboi'L'tl  Nautilus.  "  In  writing  the  jiocni  I  was  filled 
with  a  better  iVcling,  the  liii,'hest  state  of  mental  exaltation 
and  the  most  crystalline  clairvoyance  that  iiad  ever  been 
granted  to  me — 1  mean  that  lucid  vision  of  one's  thought  and 
all  forms  of  exjjression  which  will  be  at  once  precise  and 
musical,  wliich  is  the  poet's  special  gift,  however  large  or 
small  in  amount  or  value.''*  To  the  base  mechanical  of  the 
working-day  world,  this  lucid  vision,  this  crystalline  clair- 
voyance and  mental  exaltation  is  indeed  a  nuidness  working 
in  the  brain,  a  state  which  he  cannot  understand,  a  Holy  of 
Holies  into  which  he  cannot  enter. 


T. 

When  all  the  circumstances  are  taken  into  account,  the 
English  Parnassus  affords  no  parallel  to  the  career  of  Keats — 
Adonais,  as  we  love  to  call  him— whose  birthday,  one  hundred 
years  ago,  we  celebrate  to-day. 

Born  at  the  sign  of  the  "  Kwan  and  Hoop,"  :Moorgate  Pave- 
ment, the  son  of  the  head  ostler,  his  parentage  and  the  social 
atmosphere  of  his  early  years  conspired  to  produce  an  ordi- 
nary beer-loving,  pugnacious  cockney ;  but  instead  there  was 
fashioned  one  of  the  clearest,  sweetest,  and  strongest  singers 
of  the  century,  whose  advent  sets  at  naught  all  laws  of  heredity, 
as  his  develojiment  transcends  all  laws  of  environment. 

Keats'  father  succeeded  to  "Mine  Host  of  the  Swan  and 
Hoop,"  but  died  Avhen  the  poet  was  only  eight  years  old.  IHs 
grandmother  was  in  comfortable  circumstances,  and  Keats 
was  sent  to  a  school  at  Enfield,  ke])t  by  the  father  of  Charles 
Cowden  Clarke,  Here  among  other  accomplishments  he 
developed  his  knuckles,  and  received  a  second-hand  introduc- 
tion to  the  Greek  Pantheon,  He  is  described  by  one  of  his 
schoolfellows  as  "  the  pet  prize-lighter  with  terrier  courage," 
but  in  the  last  two  years  at  school  he  studied  hard  and  took 


*  In  a  private  letter  which  is  published  in  a  notice  of  Dr.  Holmes, 
J,  H.  H.  Bulletin,  October,  1894. 


nil  tlic  prizes.  Tlio  iiifliuMico  of  tho  Clarlxt'S  upon  Kouts  was 
stroii-x  mid  foriimtivo,  piirticiiliirly  tliat  of  tlie  youiigor  one, 
Clmrlcs  ("owden,  who  was  an  uslier  in  tlie  school.  In  the 
jiocni  addiesseil  to  him  lie  frankly  acknowledges  this  great 
delit,  -you  first  tauglil  me  all  the  sweets  of  song." 

In  ISIU  his  mother  died  of  consumption,  and  during  a  long 
illness  Kents  nursed  her  with  incessant  devotion. 

On  the  conii)letion  of  his  fifteenth  year  he  was  removed 
from  scho(d  and  aporeiiticed  to  Mr.  Hammond,  a  surgeon  at 
Edinonlon.  'I'lie  terms  of  the  old  indenture  as  surgeon's 
upprontice  are  (piaint  enough.  J  have  one  of  my  uncle, 
Edward  Osier,  dated  ISll.  'I'he  surgeon,  for  a  consideration 
of  MO,  without  board,  undertook  the  care  and  education  for 
live  years  of  the  apprentices,  of  whom  there  were  often  four  or 
live."  The  number  of  specific  negatives  in  the  ordinary  inden- 
ture indicates  the  rough  and  ready  character  of  tl-  Tom 
Sawyers  of  that  date.  The  young  api)rentice  ])romi8ed  not 
"  to  haunt  taverns  or  playhouses,  not  to  i)lay  at  dice  or  cards, 
nor  absent  himself  from  his  said  master's  service  day  or  night 
unlawfully,  but  in  all  things  as  a  faithful  apprentice  he  shall 
behave  himself  towards  his  said  master  and  all  his  during  the 

saiil  term.'* 

We  know  Init  little  of  the  days  of  Keats'  apprenticeship.  A 
brother  student  said,  "he  was  an  idle,  loafing  fellow,  always 
writing  poetry."  In  1814,  in  the  fourth  year  of  his  indenture, 
the  pupil  and  master  had  a  serious  quarrel,  and  the  contract  was 
broken  by  mutual  consent.  It  would  appear  from  the  follow- 
ing sentence  in  a  letter  to  his  brother,  that  more  than  words 
parsed  between  them:  "  I  daresay  you  have  altered  also— every 
man  does— our  bodies  every  seven  years  are  completely  fresh 
material'd.  Seven  years  ago  it  was  not  this  hand  that  clinch'd 
itself  against  Hammond."* 

At  the  end  of  the  apprenticeship  the  student  "walked  "  one 


•The  extracts  are  taken  from  the  new  edition  of  the  Letters  by 
Forman.    Reeves  »t  Turner,  London,  1895. 


6 


of  tholiosi)it,iils  for  ii  tiiiR'bcf'ire  pivsoiitiiiji'  himself  attlioCol- 
W"^v  of  Siirj,'coii.s  or  tin?  A|)otlR'ciiry'.s  Hall.  Kcuts  wfiil,  to 
the,  lit  that  lime,  I'liited  lloHpitiils  of  (iiiy's  uiul  St..  'J'iiomiis, 
where  he  studied  during  tho  sessions  of  1814-15  iind  1H15-If5. 
lie  beoiime  a  dresser  tit  (luy's  in  the  latter  year  under  Mr. 
liiu'a.s,  and  on  .Inly  VT),  ISK!,  he  passed  the  Ajjothecary's  ihiil. 
The  details  of  Keats'  life  as  a  nieilical  student  are  very  scanty. 
In  after  years  one  or  two  of  his  fellow-students  placed  on 
record  their  impressions  of  him.  He  doesn't  seem  to  liave 
been  a  very  brilliant  student.  Poetry  rather  than  snrf,n'ry 
was  followed  as  a  vocation;  one  of  liis  fellow-students  says, 
"all  other  pursuits  wore  to  his  mind  mean  and  tame."  Yet 
ho  acipiired  some  degree  of  technical  skill,  and  performed 
with  credit  the  miiu)r  operations  winch  fell  to  the  hand 
of  a  dresser.  lie  must  have  been  a  fairly  diligent  student  to 
havf  obtained  even  the  minimum  ((ualilications  of  the  "Hall" 
before  the  completion  of  his  twenty-tirst  year.  In  the  Bio- 
(jntphiral  History  of  Guy's  Hospital  Dr.  Wilks  states  that  Sir 
Astley  Cooper  took  a  special  interest  in  Keats. 

What  attraction  could  the  career  of  an  apothecary  offer  to  a 
man  already  much  "travelled  in  the  realms  of  gold,''  and  who 
was  capable  at  twenty  of  writing  such  a  sonnet  as  that  on 
Chapman's  Homer':'  So  far  as  wc  know  he  never  ])racticed or 
made  any  etTort  to  get  established;  and  in  1817  he  abandoned 
the  profession,  apparently  not  without  ojjpositiou.  In  u  letter 
to  his  friend  Brown,  dated  September  23d,  1819,  he  says,  "  In 
uo  period  of  my  life  have  I  acted  with  any  self-will  but  in 
throwing  uj)  the  apothecary  profession." 

During  the  next  four  years  he  led,  to  use  his  own  words,  "a 
fitful  life,  here  and  there,  no  anchor."  While  a  student  he 
had  made  friends  in  a  literary  circle,  of  which  Leigh  Hunt 
and  Haydon,  the  artist,  were  members,  and  he  had  a  number 
of  intimates — Brown,  Taylor,  Bailey,  Dilke,  and  others — 
among  the  coming  men  in  art  and  science.  From  his  letters 
to  them,  to  his  brother  George  (who  had  emigrated  with  his 
wife  to  America),  and  to  his  sister  Fauuy,  we  glean  glimpses 


of  his  life  at  this  i)i'ri(){l.  His  (•orrcsiionilciioo  rt'vciils,  too,  so 
far  us  it  cuii,  the  luun  us  lie  was,  his  us]>ii'ati(>iis,  thoiightH, 
uiul  liopes. 

If. 

Tho  sjjirit  of  nqiative  capubilifi/  doniiuuted  tliese  yeura — the 
cupubility,  us  lie  exjircsses  it,  "of  hein^'  in  uiicertuiiitics,  mys- 
teries, iloiiiits,  without  uiiy  irritui)le  seurciiing  after  fact  uud 
reason."  'i'he  native  hue  of  any  resolution  which  he  may 
have  entertained — and  we  shall  learn  that  he  had  such — was 
soon  sicklied  o'er,  and  he  lapsetl  into  idleness  so  far  as  any 
remunerative  work  was  concerned.  A  practical  woman  like 
Mrs.  Ahey,  the  wife  of  the  trustee  of  his  mother's  estate,  con- 
doned his  conduct  with  the  words  "  the  Keatses  were  ever 
indolent,  that  they  would  ever  be  so,  and  that  it  was  born  in 
them."  In  a  letter  to  his  brother  he  uses  the  right  word. 
Here  is  his  confession:  "This  morning  I  am  in  a  sort  of 
temper,  indolent  and  supremely  cureless — I  long  after  a 
stanza  or  two  of  Thomson's 'Castle  of  Indolence' — my  pas- 
sions are  uU  asleep  from  my  having  slumbered  till  nearly  eleven 
and  weakened  the  animal  tibre  all  over  ine  to  a  delightful 
Bensution  ubout  three  degrees  this  side  of  faintness.  If  I  had 
teeth  of  pearl  and  the  breath  of  lilies,  f  should  call  it  languor; 

but  as  I  am*  I  must  call  it  laziness This  is  the  only  hap- 

jiiucss  and  is  a  rare  instance  of  the  advantage  of  the  body 
overpowtM'ing  the  mind." 

The  gospel  of  "living"  as  against  that  of  "doing,"  which 
Milton  preached  in  the  celebrated  sonnet  on  his  blindness, 
found  in  Keats  a  warm  advocate.  "  Let  us  not,  therefore," 
he  says,  "go  hurrying  about  and  collecting  honey,  bee-like 
buz/jng  here  and  there  for  a  knowledge  of  Avhat  is  not  to  be 
arrived  at,  but  let  us  ojien  our  leaves  like  a  flower,  and  be 
passive  and  receptive,  budding  patiently  under  the  eye  of 
Ajiollo,  and  taking  truths  from  every  noble  insect  that  favors 


•  Especially  as  I  have  a  black-eye. 


8 

ns  with  11  visit."     Fatal  to  encourage  in  an  acuv-  man  of 
affairs,  this   dreamy  state,  this  passive  existence,  favors  in 
"bards  of  passion  and  of  mirth"  the  develoimient  of  a  fruit- 
ful  mental  attitude.     The   dreamer   spins  from   his   "own 
inwards  his  own  airy  citadel ";  and  as  the  spider  needs  but 
few  points  of  leaves  aiul  twigs  from  which  to  begin  his  airy 
circ  at,  so,  Keats  says,  "man  should  l>e  content  with  as  few 
points  to  tip  with  the  flue  web  of  his  soul,  and  weave  a  tapestry 
empyrean,  full  of  symbols  for  his  spiritual  eye,  of  softness  for 
his  spiritual  touch,  of  space  for  his  wanderings,  of  distinct- 
ness for  his  luxury."     All  the  wliile  Ker.,ts  was  "budding 
patiently,"  feeling  his  powers  expand,  and  with  the  "viewless 
wings  Poesy"  taking  ever  larger  flights.     An  absorption  in 
ideals,  a  yearning  passion  for  the  beautiful,  was,  he  says,  his 
master-passion.     Matthew  Arnold  remarks  it  was  with  him 
"ail  intellectual  and  spiritual  passion.     It  is  'connected  and 
made  one'  as  Keats  declares  that  in  his  Cos-  it  was  'with  the 
fimbition  of  the  intellect.'     It  is,  as  he  again  says,  the  mighty 
abstract  Idea  of  Beauty  in  all  things.'^     Listen  to  one  or  two 
striking  passages  from  his  letters:   "This  morning  Poetry 
has  conquered ,— I  nave  relapsed  i.ito  those  abstractions  which 
are  my  only  life."     "  I  feel  more  uud  more  every  day,  as  my 
imagination  strengthens,  that  I  do  not  live  in  this  world 
alone,  but  in  a  thousand  worlds.     No  sooner  am  I  alone  than 
shapes  oi  epic  greatness  are  stationed  round  me,  and  serve  my 
spirit  the  office  which  is  equivalent  to  a  King's  body-guai-d. 
Then   'Tragedy  with  scepter'd  pall   comes  sweeping   by." 
"What  the  imagination  seizes  as  beauty  must  be  truth,"  the 
expn  -sion  in  prose  of  his  ever  memorable  lines, 

"  Beauty  is  truth,  truth  beauty,— that  is  all 
Ye  know  on  Earth,  and  all  ye  need  to  know." 


III. 

Keats'  flrst  published  work,  a  small  volume  of  poems  issued 
in  1817,  contamed  the  verses  written  while  he  was  a  student 


aiul  before  ho  ha  1  aijtindoned  the  profession.  With  tl.e  excep- 
tion of  one  or  two  small  i)ieces  it  contained  nothing  of  note. 
The  sonnet  on  Chapman's  Homer,  written  while  he  was  a 
pupil  at  Guy's,  was  the  most  remarkable  poem  of  the  collec- 
tion. In  1818  appeared  Endi/mion,  a  poetic  romance,  an 
ambitious  work,  which,  in  the  autumn  of  the  year,  was  merci- 
lessly "  cut  up  "  in  the  Quarterly  and  in  Blackwood.  Popularly 
the.:e  reviews  are  believed  to  have  caused  Keats'  early  death — 
a  belief  fostered  by  the  jaunty  rhyme  of  Byron : 

"  'Tis  strange  the  mind,  that  very  fiery  particle. 
Should  let  itself  be  snuffed  out  by  an  article."; 

The  truth  is,  no  event  in  Keats'  life  so  warmly  commends 
him  to  us,  or  shows  more  clearly  the  genuine  robustness  of  his 
mind  than  his  attitude  in  this  much  discussed  episode.  In 
the  iirst  place,  he  had  a  clear,  for  so  young  a  man  an  extraor- 
dinarily clear,  perception  of  the  limitation  of  his  own  powers 
and  the  value  of  his  work.  The  preface  to  Endymiou,  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  ever  written,  contains  his  own  lucid 
judgment.  He  felt  that  his  foundations  were  "too  sandy," 
that  the  poem  was  an  immature,  feverish  attempt,  in  which 
he  had  moved,  as  he  says,  from  the  leading-strings  to  the 
go-cart.  Did  any  critic  ever  sketch  with  firmer  hand  the 
mental  condition  of  a  young  man  in  transition?  "The 
imagination  of  a  boy  is  healthy,  and  the  mature  imagination 
of  a  man  is  healthy ;  but  there  is  a  space  of  life  between,  in 
which  the  soul  is  in  a  ferment,  the  character  undecided,  the 
way  of  life  uncertain,  the  ambition  thick-sighted ;  thence  pro- 
ceeds niawkishness,  and  all  the  thousand  bitters  which  those 
men  I  speak  of  must  necessarily  taste  in  going  over  the  follow- 
ing pages."  It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  are  in  Endymiou, 
as  the  Quarterly  Review  puts  it,  "  the  most  incongruous  ideas 
in  the  most  uncouth  language/"  but  the  poem  has  lines  of 
splendid  merit,  some  indeed  which  have  passed  into  th^^  daily 
life  of  the  people. 

Naturally  the  criticism  of  the  Quarterly  and  of  Blac/cwood 
rankled  deeply  in  his  over-sensitive  heart,  but  after  the  first 


10 

pangs  he  appears  to  have  accepted  the  castigation  in  a  truly 
philosophic  way.     In  a  letter  to  his  friend  Hersey,  dated  Oct. 
9th,  1818,  he  writes,  "  Praise  or  blame  has  but  a  momentary 
effect  on  the  man  whose  love  of  beauty  in  the  abstract  makes 
him  a  severe  critic  in  his   own   works.     My  own  domestic 
criticism  has  "•iven  me  pain  without  comparison  beyond  Avhat 
Blachioood  or  the  Quarterly  could  possibly  inflict,— and  also 
when   I    feel    I   am  right,   no  external  praise  can  give  me 
such  a  glow  as  my  own  solitary  reperception  and  ratification 
of  what  is  fine.     J-  S.  is  perfectly  right  in  regard  to  the  slip- 
shod Endymion.     That  it  is  so  is  no  fault  of  mine.     No!— 
though  it  may  sound  a  little  paradoxical,  it  is  as  good  as  I 
had  power  to  make  it— by  myself."     And  he  adds,  "I  ^ill 
write  independently,— I  have  written  independently  without 
judgment.    I   may  write  independently,  and  with  judgment 
hereafter.    The  Genius  of  Poetry  mu-^t  work  out  its  own 
salvation  in  a  man."   A  young  man  of  twenty-three  who  could 
write  this,  whatever  else  he  possessed,  had  the  mens  sana,  and 
could  not  be  killed  by  a  dozen  reviews. 

In  June  1820  appeared  Keats'  third  work,  "Lamia,  Isabella, 
The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  and  other  poems,"  Avhioh  placed  him  in 
the  first  rank  of  English  writers.  I  will  quote  briefly  the 
criticisms  of  two  masters. 

"No  one  else  in  English  poetry  save  Shakespeare,"  says 
Matthew  Arnold,  "has  in  expression  quite  the  fascinating 
facility  of  Keats,  his  perfection  of  loveliness.  'I  think,'  he  said 
humbly,  *  I  shall  be  among  the  English  poets  after  my  death.' 
He  is ;  he  is  with  Shakespeare." 

Lowell,  speaking  of  his  wonderful  power  in  the  choice  of 
words,  says,  "Men's  though  us  and  opinions  are  in  a  great 
degree  the  vassals  of  him  who  invents  a  new  phrase  or  reapplies 
an  old  one.  The  thought  or  feeling  a  thousand  times  repeated 
becomes  his  at  last  who  utters  it  best.  ...  As  soon  as  we 
have  discovered  the  word  for  our  joy  or  our  sorrow  we  are  no 
longer  its  serfs,  but  its  lords.  We  reward  the  discoverer  of  an 
ausesthetir  Tvr  the  body  and  make  him  a  member  of  all  the 


V 


11 


':> 


societies,  but  him  who  finds  a  nepenthe  for  the  soul  we  elect 
into  the  small  Academy  of  the  Immortals." 

And  I  will  add  a  criticism  on  the  letters  by  Edward  Fitz- 
gerald: "Talking  of  Keats,  do  not  forget  to  read  Lord 
Houghton's  Life  and  Letters  of  him  ;  in  which  you  will  find 
what  you  may  not  have  guessed  from  his  poetry  (though 
almost  unfauhomably  deep  in  that  also)  the  strong  masculine 
sense  and  humor,  etc.,  of  the  man  ;  more  aki'ia  to  Shakespeare, 
I  am  tempted  to  think,  in  a  perfect  circle  of  poetic  faculties, 
than  any  poet  since." 

IV. 

Very  few  indications  of  his  professional  training  are  to  be 
found  in  Keats'  letters ;  fewer  still  in  the  poems.     Referring 
to  his  studies,  he  says,  in  one  of  .he  early  poems  (the  epistle  to 
George  Felton  Mathew),  "  far  different  cares  beckon  me  sternly 
from  soft  Lvdian  airs."     During  the  four  years  from  1817  to 
1820  he  made  fitful  efforts  to  bestir  himself  into  action,  and 
on  several  occasions  his  thoughts  turned  toward  his  calling. 
In  a  letter  to  his  brother,  written  in  February,  1819,  he  says, 
"  I  have  been  at  different  times  turning  it  in  my  head  whether 
I  should  go  to  Edinburgh  and  study  for  a  physician  ;  I  am 
afraid  I  should  not  take  kindly  to  it;  I  am  sure  I  could  not 
take  fees— and  yet  I  should  like  to  do  so;  it  is  not  worse  t  .an 
writing  poems  and  hanging  them  up  to  be  fly-blown  on  the 
Review  shambles."     In  1818  he  wrote  to  his  friend  Reynolds, 
"  Were  I  to  study  physic,  or  rather  medicine,  again,  I  feel  it 
would  not  make  the  kast  difference  in  my  poetry  ;  when  the 
mind  is  in  its  infancy  a  bias  is  in  reality  a  bias,  but  when  we 
acquire  more  strength,  a  bias  becomes  no  bias,"  adding  that 
he  is  glad  he  had  not  given  away  his  medical  books,  "  which 
I  sh<ll  again  look  over,  to  keep  alive  the  little  I  know  thither- 
wards."    In    Mav,  1820,  when  convalescent  from   the  first 
attack  of  hemoptysis,  he  wrote  to  Dilke,  "  I  have  my  choice 
of  three  things— or  at  least  two— South  America  or  surgeon 
to  an  Indiaman,  which  last  will  be  my  fate."    A  year  before. 


12 


in  a  letter  to  ^liss  Jeffreys,  he  spoke  of  voyaging  to  iiiul  from 
India  for  a  few  years,  but  in  June,  1819,  lie  tells  his  sister 
that  he  has  givei;  up  the  idea  of  an  Indiaman,  and  that  he 
"was  prei)aring  to  enquire  for  a  situation  with  an  apothecary." 
Allusions  to  or  analogies  drawn  from  medical  subjects  are  rare 
in  his  letters.  In  one  place,  in  writing  from  Devonshire,  he 
says,  "When  I  think  of  Wordsworth's  sonnet,  '  Vanguard  of 
Liberty !  Ye  men  of  Keats ! '  the  degraded  race  about  me  are 
puh'is  ipecac  simplex — a  strong  dose." 

lie  played  a  medical  prank  on  his  friend  Brown,  who  had 
let  his  house  to  a  man  named  Nathan  Benjamin.  The  water 
which  furnished  the  house  was  in  a  tank  lined  with  lime, 
which  impregnated  the  water  unpleasantly.  Keats  wrote  the 
following  short  note  to  Brown : 

Sir  .—By  drinking  your  ilamn'd  tank  water  I  have  got  the  gravel. 
What  reparation  can  you  make  to  me  and  my  family? 

Nathan  Benjamin. 

Brown  accordingly  surprised  his  tenant  with  the  following 
answer: 

Sir  .-—I  cannot  olfer  you  any  remuneration  until  your  gravel  shall 
have  formed  itself  into  a  stone,  when  I  will  cut  you  with  pleasure. 

C.  Brown. 

In  a  letter  to  James  Eice  he  tells  one  of  the  best  maternal 
impression  stories  extant:  "Would  you  like  a  true  story? 
There  was  a  man  and  his  wife  who,  being  to  go  a  long  jour- 
ney or  foot,  in  the  course  of  their  travels  came  to  a  river 
which  rolled  knee-deep  over  the  pebbles.  In  these  cases  the 
man  generally  pulls  off  his  shoes  and  stockings  and  carries 
the  woman  over  on  his  back.  This  man  did  so.  And  his 
wife  being  pregnant,  and  troubled,  as  in  such  cases  is  very 
common,  with  strange  longings,  took  the  strangest  that  ever 
was  he.ard  of.  Seeing  her  husband's  foot,  a  handsome  one 
enough,  looked  very  clean  and  tempting  in  the  clear  water, 
on  their  arrival  at  the  other  bank  she  earnestly  demanded  a 
bit  of  it.     He  being  an  affectionate  fellow,  and  fearing  for 


13 


the  coinoliiiess  of  his  child,  siivc  her  n  bit  which  he  cut  oil' 
with  his  chisp-kiiife.  Not  satislied,  she  asked  for  another 
morsel.  Supposing  there  might  be  twins,  he  gave  her  a  slice 
more.  Not  yet  contented,  she  craved  another  piece.  '  You 
wretch,' cries  the  man, 'would  you  wish  me  to  kill  myself  ^ 
Take  that,'  upon  which  he  stabbed  her  with  the  knife,  cut 
her  open,  and  found  three  children  in  her  belly:  two  of  them 
very  comfortable  with  their  mouths  shut,  the  third  with  its 
eyes  and  mouth  stark  staring  wide  open.  '  Who  would  iiave 
thought  it'.'  cried  the  widower,  and  pursued  his  journey." 

The  estate  of  Keats'  mother  was  greatly  involved,  and  it 
does  not  appear  that  he  received  much  from  the  trustee,  Mr. 
Abbey.  His  books  were  not  successful,  and  having  no  love 
for  the  ordinary  hack  work  in  literature,  he  was  largely 
dependent  upon  the  bounty  of  his  friends,  from  whom  in 
several  of  the  letters  the  receipt  of  money  is  acknowleilged. 
Who  could  resist  a  charming  borrower  who  could  thus  write: 
"I  am  your  debtor;  1  must  ever  remain  so;  nor  do  I  wish  to 
be  clear  of  my  rational  debt;  there  is  a  comfort  in  throwing 
oneself  on  the  charity  of  one's  friends— 'tis  like  the  albatross 
sleeping  on  its  wings.  I  will  be  to  you  wine  in  the  cellar,  and 
the  more  modestly,  or  rather,  indolently  I  retire  into  the 
backward  bin,  the  more  Falerne  will  I  be  at  the  drinking." 
W^e  must  remember,  however,  that  Keats  l;ad  reasonal)le 
expectations.  He  says  to  Haydon,  December  2'M,  181S,  "I 
have  a  little  money,  which  may  eiuible  me  to  study  and  to 
travel  for  three  or"  four  years."  He  had  enough  wisdom  to 
try  to  be  "correct  in  money  matters  and  to  have  in  my  desk," 
as  he  says,  "  the  chronicles  of  them  to  refer  to  and  to  know 
my  worldly  non-estate." 

To  the  worries  of  uncertain  health  and  greatly  embarrassed 
affairs  there  were  added,  in  the  summer  of  1819,  the  pangs, 
one  can  hardly  say  of  disprized,  but  certainly  of  hopeless  love. 
Writing  to  his  friend  Reynolds,  May  3d,  1818,  in  comparing 
life  to  a  large  mansion  of  many  apartments,  he  says  pathetic- 
ally that  he  could  only  describe  two;   the  tirst,  Infant  or 


14 


Tlioiightless  ("liamber,  in  Avhich  we  remain  as  long  as  we  do 
not  think;  and  the  second,  the  Chamber  of  Maiden-Thonght, 
in  which  at  llrst  ^ve  become  intoxicated  with  the  light  and 
atmosi)here,  until  it  gradually  darkens  and  Ave  see  not  well 
the  exit  and  we  feel  the  "burden  of  the  mystery."  For  his 
friends  he  hopes  the  third  Chamber  of  Life  may  be  filled  with 
the  Avine  of  loA'e  and  the  bread  of  friendship.  Poor  fellow! 
Within  a  year  the  younger  Aphrodite,  in  the  shape  of  Fanny 
liraAvne,  beckoned  to  him  from  the  door  of  this  third  cham- 
ber. Through  her  came  no  peace  to  his  soul,  and  the  Muses' 
inspiration  Avas  displaced  by  a  passion  Avhich  rocked  him  as 
the  "winds  rock  the  ravens  on  high" — by  Plato's  fourth 
variety  of  madness,  Avhich  brought  him  sorroAV  and  "leaden- 
eyed  despair."  The  publication  of  Keats'  letters  to  Fanny 
Urawne  can  be  justified;  it  must  also  be  regretted.  AVhile 
there  are  some  letters  which  Ave  should  be  loth  to  miss,  there 
are  others  the  publication  of  Avhich  have  Avro'^nl  his  memory. 
Whether  of  a  young  poet  as  Keats,  or  of  an  old  philosopher 
as  Swift,  such  maudlin  cooings  and  despairing  Avails  should 
be  ruled  out  of  court  Avith  the  writings  of  parauoiacs. 


Keats'  mother  died  of  consumption  in  1810.  In  the  winter 
of  1817-18  he  nursed  his  brother  Tom  with  the  same  disease. 
In  the  spring  they  spent  several  months  together  in  Devon- 
shire, which  Keats  compares  to  Lydia  Languish,  "  very  enter- 
taining Avhen  it  smiles,  but  cursedly  subject  to  sympathetic 
moisture."  In  the  summer  he  took  a  trip  through  Scotland, 
and  in  the  Island  of  Mull  caught  a  cold,  Avhich  settled  in  his 
throat.  In  a  letter  dated  Inverness,  August  Gth,  he  speaks  of 
his  throat  as  in  "a  fair  Avay  of  getting  quite  well."  On  his 
return  to  Hampstead  we  hear  of  it  again ;  and  in  September 
he  Avrites  "  I  am  confiued  by  Sawrey's  mandate  in  the  house 
now,  and  have  as  yet  only  gone  out  in  fear  of  the  damp  night." 
During  the  last  three  months  of  the  year  he  again  nursed  his 
brother  Tom,  Avho  died  in  December.     From  this  time  the 


"■■'sp  ^iwrr-iK^j-^/tfS^ 


15 


contimiiil  references  to  the  sore  throat  are  ominous.  On 
December  3 1st  he  comiilains  to  Funny  Keiits  that  a  sore 
tliroat  keeps  him  in  the  house,  and  lie  s])eal<s  of  it  again  in 
January  letters.  In  a  February  letter  to  his  sister  he  says 
that  the  sore  throat  has  haunte'l  him  at  intervals  for  nearly  a 
twelvemonth.  In  June  and  July  he  speaks  of  it  again,  but 
the  summer  spent  in  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  at  Winchester  did 
him  good,  and  in  September  he  writes  to  one  of  his  frii'uds 
that  he  had  got  rid  of  his  "haunting  sore  throat."  I  have 
laid  stress  upon  this  particular  feature,  as  there  can  be  but 
little  question  that  the  tuberculosis  of  which  he  died  began, 
as  is  common  enough,  with  this  localization.  For  more  than 
a  year  there  had  been  constant  exposure  while  nursing  his 
brother,  and  under  conditions,  in  Devonshire  at  least,  most 
favorable  to  infection.  The  depression  of  the  lleview  attacks 
in  the  autumn  of  1818  must  also  be  taken  into  account- 
Through  the  summer  of  1818  there  are  occasional  references 
tc  an  irritable  state  of  health  apart  from  the  throat  trouble — 
unfitting  him  for  mental  exertion.  "  I  think  if  I  had  a  free 
and  healthy  and  lasting  organization  of  heart  and  lungs  as 
strong  as  an  ox's,  so  as  to  bear  unhurt  the  sho'k  of  an 
extreme  thought  and  sensation  without  weariness,  I  could 
pass  my  life  very  nearly  alone,  though  it  should  last  eighty 
years.  But  I  feel  my  body  too  weak  to  support  me  to  the 
height,  I  am  obliged  continually  to  check  myself  and  be 
nothing."  If  we  may  judge  by  the  absence  of  any  references 
in  the  letters,  the  autumn  of  the  year  was  passed  in  good 
health,  but  on  December  20th  he  wrote  that  he  was  "fearful 
lest  the  weather  should  affect  my  throat,  which  on  exertion 
or  cold  continually  threatens  me." 

On  February  3d  the  smouldering  fires  broke  out,  after  he 
had  been  exposed  in  a  stage  ride,  in  an  attack  of  haemoptysis. 
From  this  date  Ave  can  trace  in  the  letters  the  melancholy 
progress  of  the  disease.  In  April  and  ]\Iay  the  lung  symptoms 
became  less  pronounced,  but  in  spite  of  much  nervous  irrita- 
bility and  weakness,  he  was  able  to  direct  the  publication  of 


iimrarri  i  iii 


IG 


liiH  third  little  voliimo  of  poems.  On  June  23d  he  had  a 
return  of  the  spitting  of  blood,  which  liisted  several  diivs. 
Tiie  serious  nature  of  the  disease  was  by  this  time  evident  to 
both  the  patient  and  his  physicians.  He  acknowledges  that 
it  will  be  a  long,  tedious  affair,  and  that  a  winter  in  Italy 
may  be  necessary.  "'Tis  not  yet  consumption,"  he  writes 
Fanny  Keats,  "but  it  would  be  were  I  to  remain  in  this 
climate  all  the  winter."  This,  too,  was  a  time  of  terrible 
mental  distress,  as  he  became  madly  jealous  of  his  best  friend, 
C.  A.  Urown.  The  letters  of  this  period  to  P'anny  15rawne 
tell  of  the  "damned  moments"  of  one  who  "dotes  yet  doubts, 
suspects,  yet  fondly  loves." 

J're])arations  were  made  for  his  journey  to  Italy,  which  he 
speaks  of  "as  marching  up  to  a  battery."  lie  sailed  for 
Naples,  which  was  reached  after  a  tedious  voyage  about  the 
end  of  October.  Severn,  the  artist,  accompanied  him,  and  has 
given  {Atlantic  Monthli/,  April,  1803)  a  touching  account  of 
the  last  months  of  his  friend's  life.  Kealizing  fully  the  hope- 
lessness of  his  condition,  like  many  a  brave  man  in  a  similar 
plight,  he  wished  to  take  his  life.  Severn  states,  "  In  a  little 
basket  of  medicines  I  had  bought  at  (iravosend  at  his  request 
there  was  a  bottle  of  laudanum,  and  this  I  afterwards  found 
was  destined  by  him  'to  close  his  mortal  career,'  when  no 
hope  was  left,  and  prevent  a  long,  lingering  death,  for  my 
poor  sake.  When  the  dismal  time  came,  and  Sir  James 
Clark  was  unable  to  encounter  Keats'  penetrating  look  and 
eager  demand,  he  insisted  on  having  the  bottle,  which  I  had 
already  put  away.  Then  came  the  most  touching  scenes.  He 
now  explained  to  me  the  exact  procedure  of  his  gradual  dissolu- 
tion, enumerated  my  deprivations  and  toils,  and  dwelt  upon 
the  danger  to  my  life,  and  certainly  to  my  fortunes,  from  my 
continued  attendance  upon  him.  One  whole  day  was  spent 
in  earnest  representations  of  this  sort,  to  which,  at  the  same 
time  that  they  wrung  my  heart  to  hear  and  his  to  utter,  I  was 
obliged  to  oppose  a  firm  resistance.     On  the  second  day,  his 


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17 

teiuler  appeal  turned  to  despair,  in  all  the  power  of  his  ardent 
imagination  and  Imrsting  lieart."* 

In  lionie,  Keats  was  under  the  care  of  Dr.  (afterwards  Sir 
James)  Clark,  who,  with  Severn,  watched  him  with  assiduous 
care  tlirouglumt  the  winter  months.  Unlike  so  many  con- 
sumptives, Keats  had  none  of  the  spos  ph//iinira,  which  carries 
them  hopefully  to  the  very  gates  of  the  grave,  ffe  knew  how 
desperate  was  his  state.  "  I  feel,"  he  said,  "  the  .lowers  grow- 
ing over  me."  "  When  will  this  posthumous  life  come  to  an 
end?"  On  February  14th  he  requested  Severn  to  have  in- 
scribed on  his  grave-stone  the  words, 

"  Here  Hew  one  wlioae  name  was  writ  in  water." 

On  February  27th  he  passed  away  quietly  in  Severn's  arms. 

All  lovers  of  poetry  cherish  Keats'  memory  for  thes])lendor 
of  the  verse  with  which  he  has  enriched  our  literature.  There 
is  also  that  deep  pathos  in  a  life  cut  off  in  the  promise  of  such 
rich  fruit,  lie  is  numbered  among  "  the  inheritors  of  unful- 
filled renown,"  with  Catullus  and  Marlowe,  with  Chatterton 
and  Shelley,  whom  Ave  mourn  as  doubly  dead  in  that  they 
died  so  young. 

It  was  with  true  prophetic  insight  that  he  wrote  in  1818  to 
his  brother  George, 

"  What  tfiougl)  I  leave  this  dull  unci  earthly  mould, 
Yet  fihali  my  spirit  lofty  converse  hold 
Witli  after  times." 


*Un<ler  similar  circumstances  one  of  the  gentlest  and  most 
loving  of  men  wliom  it  has  been  my  lot  to  attend  was  more 
successful,  and  when  he  realized  fully  that  a  slow,  lingering  death 
awaited  him,  took  the  laudanum  with  which  for  mont'is  he  liad 
been  provided.  In  such  a  case,  whose  lieart  will  not  echo  the 
kindly  words  with  wliich  Burton  closes  his  celebrated  section  on 
suicide?  "  Who  knows  how  he  may  be  temjjted?  It  is  his  case  ; 
it  may  be  thine.  Quae  sua  sort*  hodie  est,  crm  fore  •vestra  potest. 
We  ought  not  to  be  so  rash  and  rigorous  in  our  censures  as  some 
are  ;  charity  will  judge  and  hope  the  best ;  God  be  merciful  unto 
us  all!" 


18 

IShellev,  wlio  was  so  soon  to  join  this  "gentle  btiiul,"  and 
find  with  Keuts  "  a  gmve  among  the  eternal,"  has  expressed 
the  world's  sorrow  in  his  noble  elegy.  I  <iuote  in  conclusion 
his  less  well-known  fragment: 

"  Here  lieth  one  whose  name  was  writ  on  water." 

r.ut.  ere  tlio  breath  that  could  erase  it  blew, 
Death,  in  remorse  for  that  fell  slauKhter, 

Death,  the  immortalizing  winter,  flew 

Athwart  the  stream,— ami  time's  printiess  torrent  grew 
A  scroll  of  crystal,  blazoning  the  name 

Of  Adonais.  .  .  . 


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